


Files

by Iordio



Series: Reflexions [3]
Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-11 17:43:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20550146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iordio/pseuds/Iordio
Summary: Pre relationship. They talk.





	1. Files

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-relationship, but firmly linked to my confluence universe and one of the many throwaway comments that were made. This universe explores what actually happened.

Mid-September 2016

“I think I’ll just head home if you don’t mind,” Bernie said wearily. 

“Of course I mind,” replied Serena

“Huh?” not expecting those words.

“After a day like today, I want to make sure you’re ok. You need food. Inhaling four cups of coffee over the last 14 hours is not sustenance. At least let’s do that. Hmmm? I’ll even pack your bag and log you out if you want. Go and change and I’ll meet you at the lifts in five minutes. Okay?”

Bernie closed her eyes nodded, powerless to her colleague in full effect, caught between wanting to say no and desperately wanting to spend time with her co-lead. Walking to the lockers gave her time to pause, catch her breath; the squaddie with undiagnosed mental health needs, traits of paranoia and probable psychosis, throw in a dose of PTSD and it was an accident waiting to happen, their clash earlier in the day over treatment, then spending the last four hours in theatre trying to save a colleague with a screwdriver embedded in his chest. Today felt like being back on tour, the frenetic pace, people feeling out of the depth in theatre, as she composed herself as soon as a scalpel was placed between her fingers.

There’s a pattern developing – in more than liking her female colleagues she thought as she dumped her top in the scrubs bin. Oh, god, she really did like Serena in the most inappropriate of ways, sometimes she thought that Serena might like her back but quickly realised that she is like that with everyone and not to think any more of it. But she couldn’t, as much as she tried, this wonderful woman was in her thoughts all the time. Even in theatre, there was simply no respite, they were so in synch. It was unsettling as equally as it was beguiling. She was utterly bewitched, bothered, and bewildered by her friend and colleague. Toeing her trainers off with an ‘oomph’ she pulled down her scrub bottoms and grabbed her jeans and shoes from her locker. 

Walking to the lift, Serena was there holding Bernie’s bag and jacket, looking tired and welcoming.

“Albie’s or somewhere a bit less obvious?” asked Serena.

“Not Albie’s. Definitely not Albie’s,” replied Bernie, shaking her head to emphasize her point.

“What about the Turkish place around the corner? Suggested Serena. Bernie nodding in agreement.

\--

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier today,” said Serena as she broke the silence that was threatening to cause her to walk out and cry.

“What do you mean? I was the one who dismissed your concerns, I was the one who was hell bent on being proved right,” Bernie replied, stunning herself at being so honest in her assessment of her actions today. “I was thoroughly reckless. Overly confident,” she continued. “I’m so sorry, Serena. I sometimes forget that it’s your department.”

“Bernie, please. It’s very much our department, and absolutely our team. You do know that you are the most fantastic and fearless surgeon I’ve ever worked with,” smiled Serena, who absentmindedly covered Bernie’s hand with her own.

“Really?”

“Absolutely, and I’ll fight anyone who disagrees,” Serena laughed at her own bravado.

“I’d like to see you try!”

“I may be no action woman, but I’ve got a very sharp tongue!”

“Oh, I know that! I’ve been on the end of your withering put downs often enough. Feels like being told off by my Mother!”

“I’m not that bloody bad!” replied Serena, wiping tears from her eyes. Tension dissipated and friendship tentatively restored.

“Hanssen will want an update in the morning, won’t he?” asked Bernie.

“Yes, but let me deal with that.”

“I can’t let you do that!”

“So, you are saying you want to write the report, deal with the HSE, CQC, HR, the Board, press releases and media enquiries?” countered Serena.

“Erm... Oh, when you put it like that. Maybe not.”

“It would be a complete waste of your talents, and I’d rather have you saving lives than stuck in front of a laptop. Plus, I’ve seen how slowly you type,” Serena winked at Bernie.

“Fuck off! We aren’t all Little Miss Overachiever with her Harvard MBA,” laughed Bernie as their food arrived. 

“Mmm, this is good,” moaned Bernie.

“Slow down, you’ll give yourself indigestion. Honestly, I’ve no idea where you put it all,” Serena said.

“Hollow legs,” smiled Bernie. Bloody great legs thought Serena.

It was pushing half ten at night and the restaurant was still packed, they decided to share baklava and fig ice cream. Ironically, both would have usually consumed at least a bottle of wine between them before the conversation turned to relationships, they had both declined when the wine list had been suggested. Serena sharing the latest drama to be inflicted upon Eli, having been recently dumped by her boyfriend and Serena having to playing the supportive mother and all men are bastards’ card. Bernie was desperately wanting to ask Serena if she was seeing someone, she didn’t have to ask as Serena willingly provided the information saying that she didn’t know if she was single out of choice or single because she was out practice, and the thought of setting up a dating profile terrified the life out her as her last experience was several messages with images of penises. 

“Can’t see the attraction, now,” laughed Bernie.

When the conversation turned to Bernie’s personal life, she stumbled out excuse after excuse. Serena realising that avenue was blocked she asked when Bernie realised that she liked women.

“No, not going there!” pouted Bernie.

“Why, how bad can it be?” queried Serena.

“Horrific, actually.”

“Stop being so melodramatic, I won’t tell a soul. I’m not Ric Griffin,” intoned Serena. And then, call it a flash of inspiration, if you will. “You’ve never told anyone, have you?” said Serena as softly as she could. “Bernie, it is okay. You don’t have to tell a me.” She could see her normally stoic colleague mentally battling with the situation.

“No, I probably should. Tell someone, I mean,” sighed Bernie. “I don’t know where to start. Well, I do, just not how…”

Serena watched Bernie as drew deep breath after deep breath, forcing herself not to break the silence.

“I was on maternity leave with Charlotte and ended up watching The X Files in between feeds. I thought that it was me relating to Scully's role in a male environment. Bit of a turn up for the books when Gillian Anderson was the person who made me view women in a very different light. I looked ‘lesbian’ up in the dictionary to confirm that’s what I was thinking. Kept it to myself, never ever acted upon it until I had an affair a couple of years ago with a female colleague whilst on tour before being blown up and back to reality,” croaked Bernie, her voice wavering with emotion and her eyes unable to make eye contact with Serena, and instead focussed on a fire exit sign.

“Bernie? Bernie, look at me, please?” pleaded Serena. “What would you like me to do?” For once, Serena instinctively knew rather than taking charge, it was about giving Bernie control. Realising that holding in something so fundamental and personal for the best part of twenty odd years is bound to feel alien and disorientating once it’s out there in the open.

“Can we get the bill?” breathed Bernie.

“Sure,” as Serena caught the eye of one of the waiters. 

\--

“Stay at mine tonight,” mumbled Serena in a rush as they walked back through the hospital car park. Her urge to protect her colleague from the upcoming processes and investigation following today’s shitstorm was overwhelming.

“No, I can’t, I couldn’t, I mean...” stuttered Bernie. Not being on her own would be nice, but just not with Serena. She’s a colleague whom I more than like, but she’s a dyed in the wool heterosexual, Bernie internally reasoned. 

Different tact thought Serena, “Would you like to be on your own tonight?” Bernie shook her head. “OK. Do you feel that you are safe to drive home? Another shake of the head. “Would you let me drive you home, you can pack an overnight bag, and we can go back to mine. Jason will be asleep. Eli’s room is made up...” 

“Erm...I’ve got an overnight bag in the boot, if it’s ok?” said Bernie, only to be met with a hug from Serena who murmured, “It’s more than ok.”

“Can I put the radio on?” asked Bernie as Serena drove through the barriers from the staff car park and onto the main road. Anything to fill the silence.

“Yes, you might want to turn it down, though. I was singing along to Blondie on the way in this morning,” replied Serena.

“Bloody hell, Campbell are you deaf!” jerked Bernie in response to the blast of ‘Tide is High’ pumping through the speakers.

“It’s either that or getting rather cross at John Humphreys on Radio 4 at stupid o’clock in the morning and arriving at work ready to kill or happy,” added Serena.

“Can’t have our leader on the warpath, can we? Thought you’d be a more Classic FM person,” joked Bernie.

“Nope, can’t stand it. I want to hear the whole piece and not just four minutes. You’re more likely to find me playing ABBA than Dvorak!” laughed Serena as she turned into her driveway a few minutes later, security lights illuminating the garage as Serena reached for the door remote. Relieved that some of the tension had gone from the last hour.

“I can still drive you back to yours, if you would like,” broached Serena somewhat hesitantly.

“No, no. I don’t want to be there tonight,” replied Bernie.

“C’mon then,” as Serena fumbled in her bag for her keys. 

Bernie followed Serena’s lead and hung her coat up on the hooks.

“Downstairs loo is in there. Kitchen is through here. Nightcap? Hot chocolate, probably got Horlicks somewhere…” said Serena.

“Hot chocolate sounds good,” replied Bernie who stood in the doorway watching Serena puttering about as she grabbed everything that was needed. Warm, Serena is warm and homely in a way that she could never be, she thought. It’s more than a crush, it’s absolutely more than liking someone, it could be something that she’s not going to say. Serena calling her name brought her back to the present.

“Hmm, sorry. Miles away,” said Bernie.

“Thought as much. It will be alright, you know. And I don’t mean work, I mean adjusting to what you said earlier. And you are even more brave than I first thought.”

“Really? Sometimes it feels as if I’m constantly running away from things. I’ve taken the cowardly way of hiding who I am over the years.

“But you aren’t now. You've told someone and the world hasn’t imploded.”

“I've lost too many friendships over the years, by pushing people away. I wouldn’t want to lose yours.” Pushing people, pushing women away because I wanted to be so much more to them than friends Bernie thought to herself.

“And you won’t. We’ll disagree over things, we always will but this is a positive ending to what has been a horrid day. And I don’t know about you, but I am shattered so let me show you where everything is. Hmm?” said Serena. Bernie dutifully followed Serena upstairs as she was shown around.

“Thank you, I didn’t expect this,” Bernie said softly.

“I know, but it sounds like you needed it,” replied Serena as she covered Bernie’s arm with her hand. “Don’t worry about Jason, I’ve texted him so he’ll be fine. I've emailed Hanssen to let him know I’ll pull everything together in the morning before we head in.”

“Are you sure?” asked Bernie.

“Yes, may as well put my MBA to good use!” Serena laughed. “Go on, bed with you. I’ll see you at half six for a cup of tea.”

Closing the door to her room for the evening, Bernie kicked her shoes off and lay flat on the bed, next thing she knew was Serena knocking on the door to inform her that its seven and they need to leave in half an hour. 


	2. Figures

13th December 2016

“Ah, there you are,” rushed out Bernie as she found Serena looking into the fridge.

“Could you wear louder shoes!” replied Serena sharply who had jumped out of her skin with fright.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump,” smiled Bernie wanely. 

“Need your vascular skills; nail gun versus hand.”

“Can you remember when milk was just milk. All I wanted was semi-skimmed milk. Not oat, not soya, not almond, just milk from bovines that moo gently and feast on lush green grass,” ranted Serena.

“Oh, whoops. That might be my fault, and I may have raided your secret stash of crunchy nut cornflakes for my lunch as well. Hoped I would have had time to replace them before I was rumbled,” said Bernie as she held her hands up to apologise. There it was again, that look from Serena that Bernie couldn’t quite pinpoint what it meant. All she knew was that she wanted to make Serena look like that all the time. There was no denying how she felt. Well, there was if anyone ever had the nerve to ask. 

“Shall we have a look at this hand chap's hand?” said Serena. All to aware that anyone else would have been left reeling from the subsequent lecture about not taking someone else's food that was clearly labelled and yet with Bernie she could not do anything but break out into a huge smile. This woman who she buys coffee for, who she’s spent weeks searching for a Christmas present for. This woman who she has fallen in love with. This woman who she doesn’t know if she likes her back. This woman who’s made her realise that she’s definitely not as heterosexual as she was six months ago. This woman who’s hands she wants to hold, who's hair she wants to run her fingers through, who's lips she wants to kiss. This woman who makes her stumble over her words, who makes her heart beat a little bit faster, whom she can’t stop thinking about. Even behind their surgical masks, they make each other smile as their eyes shine with mirth.

“Mr. Rathbone, that’s certainly one way to avoid Christmas shopping,” said Serena has she looked at his right hand with three nails lodged firmly in place. “Any pain further up your arm and into your shoulder?” asked Serena as their patient shook his head. “We think that you’ve clipped a vein according to the x-rays. So, we’ll make a couple of incisions here and here, before we remove the nails, clean out the wound, and stitch you back up. Has your next of kin been contacted?” asked Serena?

“Yeah, the gaffer called me husband. He’s dropping the kids off at his Mum’s before heading in here. He’s gonna kill me. I wanted to get this job finished today. I had the nail gun in me hand, I felt a sneeze coming, took me hand off the trigger, and the force of the sneeze made me pull the trigger!” recounted Mr Rathbone. 

“I’m sure your husband won’t kill you, he’ll be extremely relieved that your are still in one piece,” reassured Serena. “Lou, can you get the paperwork completed and Mr Rathbone prepped for theatre? And I will see you in thirty minutes,” as Serena nodded at her patient. 

“Care to scrub in, Ms. Wolfe? Might need some of your strength to pulls the nails out,” winked Serena referring to their arm wrestle for the honour of pulling a tap from a patient's rectum. The laughter that followed, her suspicion, and Bernie’s denial. Was it friendly piss-taking, was it flirting, was it a mis-reading of the last few weeks when things had ramped up between them, thought Serena.

“So, you only want me for my body and not my surgical prowess, Ms. Campbell. Hmm?” batted back Bernie. They were getting good at this banter, thought Bernie, too good for it not to mean anything.

“Well, if you insist Ms. Wolfe,” said Serena who could feel the heat rising in her face.

\--

Bernie leaned back on her chair, her back arching as she clasped her hands together over her head, groaning as she heard the cracks and clicks from her dodgy back. Mindful that she really should take better care of herself. She thought about the bottle of badly wrapped Shiraz hiding in her locker, somehow she’d drawn Serena as her Secret Santa between the AAU, Keller, and Obs/Gynae consultants, thanking the Gods for conspiring against her. Two more charts then home to her flat and a microwave meal before dealing with more Christmas party season madness tomorrow. Her co-lead had been called down to ED for a consult an hour ago and she hadn’t returned. Rather than leave without saying bye, Bernie was leaning over to stick a note on Serena’s monitor as the office door opened.

“You’ve been ages, what happened?” asked Bernie.

“Drunk idiots,” said Serena as she sat in her chair.

“That it? No Campbell rant about their inherent stupidity...” smiled Bernie.

“Nope, too tired and too menopausal to care,” sighed Serena, sinking into her chair.

“Wait there, I might have something that might help,” said Bernie. It’s as good a time as any she thought as she made her way to her locker and back to their office.

“I may have gone over budget, but you’ve made me feel so welcome over the last few months...” said Bernie as she pulled the present out from behind her back. “I hope it’s to your liking,” tucking her hair behind her ear, nervously waiting for approval.

“Oh, Bernie. You shouldn’t have! Thank you!”

“You haven’t unwrapped it yet, might be a bottle of elderflower cordial!”

“Bloody better not be. I can bear a grudge from beyond the grave,” growled Serena, to which Bernie honked.

“Never, ever change Serena,” Bernie said warmly.

“It seems only fair that I give you yours,” said Serena as reached down to open her desk drawer where two fairly similar sized presents lay. Be brave she thought as she picked the heaviest present and handed it to Bernie. “Merry Christmas.”

“We can open them together,” laughed Bernie.

“Er, I may have got you something else,” stuttered Serena almost panic-stricken, pulling the other gift from her drawer.

S’rena, what’s wrong?” asked Bernie.

“That night, when Fletch was stabbed, you told me about when you realised you like women. Oh God, I thought this was a great idea, now I wish I hadn’t...”

“Do you want me to open it?” asked Bernie, concerned at just how agitated Serena was. 

“No. Yes. I don’t know...” said a clearly flummoxed Serena.

“C'mon, it’s ok. It’s me. It can’t be that bad,” said Bernie.

But it is thought Serena, I’m trying to tell you that I like you in the same way you like Gillian Anderson, and I have no idea if you like me back.

“Raf can hold the fort for a bit. Let’s get a cup of tea. Bring everything with you, that’s an order,” said Bernie. Serena managed a watery smile as Bernie held out her hand, presents in her other arm and dragged Serena to the staff kitchen and closed the door.

“What’s brought all this on, eh?” gently asked Bernie.

“You.”

“Me? What have I done?” asked Bernie, who was now as equally confused as Serena.

Serena took a deep breath, “Will you open your present and I’ll explain...” 

Bernie picked up the present that caused Serena’s torment and gently put her finger under the strip of sellotape, easing it up to see an action figure of Dana Scully, “Oh.”

“Bernie, it’s just... I’ve no idea. Oh God,” sighed Serena her eyes opened only to find Bernie’s staring back at her. Taking a step nearer, Serena leaned in, and took a final glance at Bernie’s lips before closing the gap. Serena finally being able to run her hands over Bernie’s back and through her hair as thoughts raced through her head.

Seconds, minutes, hours could have passed. The world could have ended, the hospital could have crashed down around them. It hadn’t. Gasping for air as they broke apart, Serena whispered, “Sorry.”

“I’ve wanted to do that for months!” gasped Bernie.

“Really?! Why didn’t you?” spluttered Serena.

“I wasn’t sure... I wasn’t sure if I’d read things right or whether if you even liked me in that way, and I thought you were straight,” faltered Bernie.

“I do like you. Very much as it happens. As for being straight... I’m not so sure,” said Serena who stumbled over the words.

“Are you saying that Dana Scully made you realise you we’re less straight than you first thought?” teased Bernie.

“Don’t,” pleaded Serena. 

“Would it make it easier if we forgot about this?” Bernie asked tentatively, genuinely frightened if Serena said yes.

“That’s the last thing I want,” answered Serena, in barely more than a whisper.

“Ok, what do you want?” sighed Bernie in utter relief.

“To kiss you again,” breathed Serena her eyes drifted to the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the light. 

Serena moaned as their lips met, Bernie’s knees almost gave way at the sound, breaking apart they hugged. Eyes closed, heads resting on shoulders, minds racing, hearts pounding. It felt good, more than good.

“We should get back,” mumbled Bernie into a shoulder.

“Mm, bit longer,” came Serena’s muffled reply. Not wanting to let go. Letting go meant going back to work. Dealing with feelings. Talking about feelings. 

“I can live with that. Would you let me buy you dinner, though?” asked Bernie leaning back to take in Serena’s face.

“Yes, but not tonight.”

“Oh.” 

“Not like that. It’s Thursday so it’s fish and chips, and I said I’ll pick them up on the way home,” explained Serena, “but you could join us?” 

“Are you sure, will Jason be OK?” asked Bernie.

“Yes, he likes you, but not as much as his Aunt,” said Serena, almost bashfully. “And his Aunt would like to ask if you would stay the night, as she’s not ready to let go just yet.”

“And if I said yes, would his Aunt want to talk about what’s happened between us?”

“Yes, amongst other things.”

“Care to tell me what those other things are?” ask Bernie, her voice laden with implication.

“You’re a consultant, I’m sure you can figure it out,” replied Serena.

“You’ll be the death of me, Campbell,” groaned Bernie.

“I hope not! I like having you around. It’s rather nice to tell you that. But we probably do need to talk before...” trailed off Serena.

“Probably. But let’s get out of here first,” said Bernie as she rested her forehead against her co-lead.

“I’m not imagining this, am I?” pensively asked Serena. 

“No, no. Definitely not,” replied Bernie. “But for the record, it does feel quite surreal.”


End file.
